I sat in the driver’s seat for a long time, staring at the steering wheel, before I finally started the engine.

My phone buzzed in my coat pocket.

I pulled it out, expecting a call from my attorney, but the screen displayed my brother Daniel’s name.

I hesitated, then pressed the screen to answer.

“Daniel,” I said.

“Elizabeth, where are you?” his voice was tense, the background noise suggesting he was driving.

“I just left the hospital,” I said. “The board put me on administrative leave.”

There was a brief pause on the other end.

“I told you this would happen,” Daniel said, his tone a mix of anger and anxiety. “I told you to let Uncle Michael handle it quietly.”

“I was assaulted, Daniel,” I said, my voice hardening. “I am not going to lie to the police to protect Patricia.”

“Well, it doesn’t matter now,” Daniel said. “The damage is done.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, pulling out of the parking garage onto the wet city streets.

“Jason just got the email from Georgetown,” Daniel said. “They rejected his application. Formally.”